


Considering We're Both, I Don't Know, At Work!

by CookieCatSU



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Andy's such a nerd, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Oscar is not a fan, until he is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:20:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25795780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieCatSU/pseuds/CookieCatSU
Summary: Andy's started hanging around. Oscar isn't certain why, after years of blissful nothing, and absence, but he has.Oh well.Oscar also may or may not be becoming fond of him... Hmm.Oh well.
Relationships: Andy Bernard/Oscar Martinez
Comments: 7
Kudos: 52





	Considering We're Both, I Don't Know, At Work!

Oscar prides himself on being one of the few people in the office with common sense; not much of a feat, considering the idiots of coworker's he's obliged to work alongside, but one he's proud of nonetheless.

Oscar's a rather sober man, level headed, logical.

It's part of why he's so good at working with numbers, part of why he spear heads the financials with a critical eye and a curt nod. Also part of why he can deal with little miss perfect without popping a gasket, regardless of the occasional odd glare shot across their conjoined desk complex, and he can listen to Kevin talk about vapid nothingness for hours, because he doesn't let little things at the workplace get to him. Most certainly not when it's Dunder Mifflin, Scranton Branch - Home of the idiot loons, land of unsellable paper.

(It's a wonder they stay afloat).

It's also part of why he's so surprised when he sees Andy Bernard walk up to his desk, resident spontaneous singer of riffs, as if they're the best of friends. Buddy buddy and all. They're not, of course. In fact, they've hardly conversed in the past five years since Oscar's transferred in, but he finds no need to say so. It's common knowledge.

Andy leans over his desk, and Oscar wants nothing more than to nudge his elbow away with his pencil. He settles for a little grimace and a questioning look, instead.

"Heyo, Oscar. How's it hanging?" He sounds desperate, in a way, like an extreme extrovert starved of human interaction.

"Do you need something?" He asks, not feeling particularly patient.

Or bad for him. He does not feel bad for him, though that's easy, with Andy.

"Just thought I'd say hi, being courteous like the courteous guy I am"

Oscar's cheek twitches. He scowls. "Well, I'm busy right now, Andy. Because I'm working, kind of like you should be, considering we're both, I don't know, _at work_ "

"Oh yeah, of course. No uh, this visit is actually definitely work related, because I come bearing accounting questions"

Andy's eyes widen as he catches sight of Oscar's computer monitor, and he exclaims loudly,

"Woah, is that-"

He considers kicking his shin from under his desk. Angela is devious, and conniving, and while Kevin generally means well, he can't keep a secret to save his life (or won't).

The last thing Oscar needs is Mr. Cornell University sticking his beak where it doesn't belong.

"No. It's not" And he promptly closes the window.

* * *

Andy's started hanging around. Oscar isn't certain why, after years of blissful nothing and absence, but he has.

He smiles at him over gaudy coffee mugs each morning, always with some silly quip, and hands him a faded red one with Best Secretary scrawled across it (secretary is crossed out with permanent marker, squiggled out as if by a 3rd grader).

Oscar offers an uncomfortable half smile the first time, lifts the cup up, scrutinizing it with eyebrows raised, and mumbles a 'thank you'.

"For the best dressed guy on this side of the office" He exclaims with a laugh, and Oscar wonders why the hell he'd say that, or why it makes his eye twitch just so.

He also wonders why Andy's suddenly bringing him coffee, of all things.

He takes an experimental sip. The coffee is bitter on his tongue, pungent and sharp. Andy must see the grimace on his face, even though he reaches his hand up to wipe his mouth just to hide it, because he smiles awkwardly and says,

"I made it black, since I wasn't sure how ya liked it" In that usual, overly enthusiastic tone.

And Oscar can _taste_ the unobscured, cheap taste of the Office's signature brand of particularly off brand coffee grinds. It's unsavory.

He doesn't say anything, for several moments. He has a pile of paperwork still waiting for him, and not much time for small talk. It's 7:30 in the morning, and Oscar is already irritated, and tired, and he's just not ready for any conversations, period, much less with bubbly Andy Bernard.

"2 sugars, 3 creams" Oscar says, anyway, unstacking the papers before him with his free hand, "I usually take my coffee with 2 sugars and 3 creams"

He also expects Andy to take that with a grain of salt.

Andy smiles anyway, into his own cup of joe. And from then onward, Andy brings him a coffee every morning in a different, gaudy mug stolen from the breakroom cupboards, but always with the exact same, specified amount of sugar and cream.

"Just the way you like it, my brotato" And it's oddly sweet, the way he smiles all lopsided and dopey, as he hands him the mug; He _remembered_ , and Oscar really hadn't expected him to.

Oscar isn't sure if he should be surprised or endeared. Or both.

Or neither. He decides on neither.

He does smile faintly though, and takes the cup without any fanfare.

* * *

Andy also starts following him to the break room for lunch every day, and often waits late into the evening, often doing a whole lot of nothing that he disguises as something, just so they can walk to their cars together in the evenings. He makes certain to always sit beside him during their designated pointless conference meetings, and makes the longest possible trek to the copy machine on the opposite side of the office, snaking zigzagged in a way that makes certain he must walk past Oscar's desk.

He sings acapella, a short little verse edged with laughter, and Oscar smirks, hands clasped under his chin, eyes slit, and tries to pretend that he isn't: smirking, that is. He must admit, perhaps not as grudgingly as he should, that Andy has a nice singing voice.

Warm, half country treble and half college frat boy. All ridiculously endearing.

Kevin eyes Oscar with a knowing smile, as soon as Andy is just out of earshot… eyeshot?, nodding like he's figured out some huge secret, some vast conspiracy.

"I know what's going on here"

"Do you now?" Oscar asks, staring at his computer screen religiously, fighting down the smile bubbling up.

"Yeah, I do" But he doesn't elaborate on what it is he knows, and Oscar doesn't ask.

If he knows Kevin, and he thinks he does, it's probably nothing anyway.

* * *

The theater lobby is bright and crowded. The air is laden with warm popcorn butter, and constant chatter from the other movie goers packed in line like sardines. Dwight's shouting off somewhere, a tirade about the injustice of combo age limits brewing already, and Oscar's certain he just saw Stanley shuffling off toward the bathrooms to escape. Pam and Jim are hand in hand, seated on towering little stools in their own little world.

Andy grips his elbow faintly, head mere inches from resting on Oscar's shoulder. Oscar hardly even notices the proximity, until he's feeling Andy's breath tickling across his neck, drawing a surprisingly high pitched giggle out of him.

Andy laughs as well.

"Okay, be right back, Oscar. This little twinkle's gotta tinkle" He starts to pull away. Oscar shoos him off with a roll of his eye and another, now slightly more confused, laugh.

And then Andy slips away. And Oscar is alone.

Oscar steps away toward the edges of the lobby to get away from the general chaos, once Andy is gone, and a large carton of popcorn is clutched in his arms. He leans against the railing that wrapped around the room, beside a giant cardboard cutout advertising Slicer 5.

He munches on popcorn, content to be away from all the commotion.

Then Micheal is sidling up beside him, and Oscar has to hold back an exasperated sigh.

"Boss?" He says, for lack of anything else to say, or any desire to think something up.

"So, are you two a thing?" Micheal asks, rather abrupt for him, considering he almost always went on a rant, or got sidetracked, and what?

"Who… what are you…what are you talking about?"

"You and Andy. You're dating, right?"

"What, no" Oscar says quickly.

But then he thinks back to just ten minutes ago, as they stood side by side in line.

_Andy's fingers press into Oscar's forearm, as he points up toward the board, saying something about Nutter Butter or something, and Oscar feels fuzzy, warm,_ _**hot** _ _._

_\----------_

_Andy leans over him on tiptoe to peek at the Reese's Pieces sitting in the display case, and Oscar's heart is pounding in his chest, just going all aflutter._

_\----------_

_Andy leans against him in the back of the cab, and he looks so serenely peaceful, and it's all so comfortably casual, and Oscar wants nothing more than to kiss the upturned corner of his silly mouth and…_

God.

Oscar visibly blanches.

They kinda _were_ , weren't they.

And then he wonders when he became _so_ clueless.

* * *

Oscar adjusts Andy's bowtie, restraightening the already straight collar of the dress shirt tucked beneath his beige sweater.

Andy grasps his hand and grins, "Looking sharp"

Oscar preens, "We both are, of course"

"Did you… did you ever?" He casted his gaze around, and there's a plethora of questions in those dark eyes

"I never had a doubt about it" Oscar replies, and somehow, it's the answer to everything.

Andy nods, with that silly little smile. The elevator settles, the music stopping so the beep that sounds their arrival can be heard. The doors slide open, and the taller man pulls Oscar along behind him.

"Now come on, everyone's waiting!"

**Author's Note:**

> Never thought I'd be writing fanfiction for the Office. Lol. But here we are...


End file.
